


Enigma Variations, Coda

by hexagonad (ideserveyou)



Category: The Mighty Boosh (TV)
Genre: Angst, Bathing/Washing, Eventual Happy Ending, Fluff, Foursome - M/M/M/M, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Magic, Time Travel, Time machine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-06
Updated: 2014-04-06
Packaged: 2018-01-18 10:07:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 10,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1424566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ideserveyou/pseuds/hexagonad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five centuries later, Vince and Howard do eventually find their way to Xooberon, but their return isn't at all how Naboo imagined it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Crash

**Author's Note:**

> Follows on from ['Enigma Variations'](http://archiveofourown.org/works/996393) and references that story heavily, so do go and at least skim it first so you know what's going on!

_it comes out of the blue_

_the flash of peacock blue behind your eyelids_

_you wake on the instant, trembling, your mouth dry_

_saboo stirs beside you – little one, what is it?_

_you shake your head, you can’t reply_

_he snaps his fingers and there is soft light_

_– what’s wrong? his hand gentle on your shoulder_

_– they’re here_

_your voice is a whisper, you’re barely able to breathe_

_– there’s no-one here, just you and me – he tries to soothe you_

_but you won’t be comforted, you fling the covers off your burning body_

_– **they’re here** –_

_he’s alarmed now, eyes wide – who’s here?_

_then he shakes his head sorrowfully – ah, no, it can’t be, you know it can’t be, I know how much you want this, you never gave up hope, but –_

_– I **KNOW** THEY’RE HERE!_

_the scream surprises you too, and now you’re on your feet and hurling yourself out of the house and running, running headlong, the dawn suns and the wind streaming through you as though you were no more than air_

_your senses lead you through the dunes to the bright wide beach_

_and oh, it’s empty_

_naked and stunned you stand there, helpless with grief_

_you were so certain_

_his footsteps come up behind you_

_– so certain, you sob into his chest, and he holds you close and murmurs – I know, my love, I know_

_he wraps a blanket around your shoulders – come on, come home with me, come –_

_the flash is blinding_

_an instant later the bang rips the air apart in shining ribbons_

_you drop to your knees, whimpering, blood running from your ears_

_when you can move again you lift your head and see:_

_twisted metal, shattered glass_

_a round brass doorknob rolling across the smoking oilstains on the sand_

_and crawling out of the wreckage, a haggard figure, stick-thin, hoary and bent_

_your gut twists, you don’t know who this is_

_but then the figure raises its head_

_small eyes meet yours in mute appeal_

_the peacock blue fills your vision, and runs down in tears_

_– fuck me, you were right, saboo breathes, and then he’s running, and you scramble up and try to run too, the unspoken fear gnawing at you as you stumble over the sand_

_he lifts aside the remains of the door and picks up something in his arms, cradling it gently, so gently_

_– no, no, no – you plead silently with fate – please, no –_

_the white-haired old man sobs harshly_

_you summon all your strength; put an arm round his waist_

_– alright, howard? – you say, as if this were just another day in the shop_

_– naboo, he sighs, and sags against you – it wasn’t alright, but it will be now –_

_you wish you could be so certain_

_the ruined body in saboo’s arms is still and silent, just pale skin stretched over sharp bones, only the faintest flicker of breath showing that there’s life there at all_

_in the instant before you turn away, saboo’s eyes mirror your own horror_

_you didn’t need to see that, not ever, but you can’t un-see it_

_vince is completely bald_


	2. Cup

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Naboo makes Howard a cup of tea.

‘Vince got c... got sick,’ Howard says hoarsely, huddling deeper into the armchair beside the fire. He feels as though he’ll never be warm again. ‘It was alright, until then. It was...’

He gives up, and shakes his head helplessly. There are no words to describe what he and Vince have experienced since they pulled the door of Kirk’s dodgy time machine so carelessly shut behind them, instantly cutting themselves off from their familiar lives and from the whole world they had known. 

Naboo doesn’t press for an explanation; he simply tucks a vivid stripy blanket over Howard’s knees, puts more wood on the fire and pours out some tea.

‘Here you go, this is what you need. Well, maybe not exactly, but it’ll do for the time being.’ He pushes a floral teacup into Howard’s hands.

‘Cheers.’ Howard wraps his cold hands round the cup; takes a gulp of the scalding liquid. ‘First decent cup of tea I’ve had in...’ He tries to think; shrugs helplessly. As he and Vince had gone further and further into the future, it had become increasingly difficult to tell how far. ‘I don’t know how long. How long’s it been for you?’

‘Ten... I mean, five hundred an’ thirty years, give or take a week or two.’

Half a millennium? Hard to believe. The little shaman looks more or less exactly the same as when Howard last saw him; perhaps somewhat sadder and wiser, but otherwise unchanged. That’s either deeply comforting or slightly scary.

But at least he still makes a decent cup of tea.

‘So...’ Howard’s brain is whirring, trying to make sense of it all. ‘You got here the long way round. We took a short cut. Well, a series of short cuts.’

‘Lemme guess. Kirk’s crappy machine would only go forwards in time.’

‘And it went to completely random coordinates in space. It took us a while to work it out.’ Howard stares into the leaping flames, recalling the terror and confusion of those first few hours, the way Vince had clung to him. ‘When we realised we couldn’t get back – not ever – well, we tried not to think about it. We tried...’

He shakes his head again, and falls silent.

They’d tried everything, pretty much. It seemed there were plenty of places in the universe where a couple of time travellers with no history could make a living – even have some fun times – but time had caught up with them in the end.

Vince had started losing weight without having to be on some bizarre diet, and the fun times were definitely over.

‘Howard?’

Naboo puts a hand on his arm.

‘Sorry.’ Howard half-turns to look across the room to where Saboo is sitting on the bed, leaning over Vince’s motionless body and murmuring soft words that make the air shimmer like a heat-haze over the desert. ‘It’s a long story, and I’m not telling it very well.’

Vince was always the one who told the stories.

‘ ’Salright. I know you’ve got a lot on your mind. Take your time.’

Considering Naboo has been waiting for five hundred years to find out what happened to his friends, he’s being very patient.

Howard takes another mouthful of tea, swallows hard around the lump in his throat, and tries again. ‘We spent years searching, once the c... once the worst was confirmed. Eventually we found a place, a planet that offered treatment... and it was better for a while, but once he lost all his hair he lost all his hope too, and then we ran out of credit and they said they couldn’t do anything more...’

The tears well up and spill over.

‘Aww, Howard.’ Naboo takes the empty cup from Howard’s shaking hand. ‘Don’t think about it any more.’

‘I’m sorry. I – I’m so tired...’

‘Course you are. You need to rest up. Time travel’s a dodgy business for a man of your age.’

He glances into Howard’s empty cup, and a frown flits across his brows.

A sob escapes Howard; Naboo puts the cup down on the tea-tray and turns back to him. ‘Hey. There’s no need for that. It’s gonna be okay.’

‘Like – like last time?’ Howard hiccups.

‘Yeah, like last time.’ Naboo settles himself on Howard’s lap and hugs him, awkwardly, through the folds of blanket. ‘We’ll fix it with magic, like we did before. We’ve got the Head Shaman in charge this time, ’s’not just you an’ me. We’re not gonna let Vince leave you.’

‘I can’t bear to lose him.’

‘You won’t. I promise you.’ Naboo looks up at Howard; their eyes meet. ‘Peacock blue,’ Naboo whispers. ‘After all this time...’

Howard leans down, ignoring the creaks and twinges in neck and shoulders, and kisses him. He tastes of peppermint.

‘What was that for?’ But Naboo is smiling through his tears, and Howard begins to let himself believe what he’s been telling Vince all along, that it really will be alright now.

He strokes the little shaman behind his ear, under the silky fall of his hair.

Naboo sighs, a deep sigh with a little catch in it.

‘Bad time of the half-century?’ Howard asks.

‘You an’ me both.’ Naboo slides off Howard’s lap; steadies himself against the arm of the chair. ‘Nah, I’m fine, an’ we’ll get you sorted soon enough, an’ then we can have a proper catch-up.’

He tucks the blankets back round Howard, and picks up the tea-tray. ‘You need to sleep. I’ll call you if there’s any change. Don’t worry, we’ll take care of him. Of both of you.’

‘Naboo... I...’ Whatever else Howard had been going to say, it’s lost in an enormous, jaw-cracking yawn; and by the time the yawn has run its course, he’s forgotten what he had been going to say anyway.

Naboo grins. ‘Just go to sleep, Howard.’

And Howard does.


	3. Critical

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Saboo is doing his best to help Vince.

‘How’s he doin’?’

I turn my head, startled. Deep in my own dark thoughts, watching Vince’s bone-pale, wizened face for any sign of the change I knew wouldn’t come, I hadn’t heard footsteps. But Naboo is standing beside me, with an empty teacup and an anxious expression.

No point lying. Not to him. ‘Badly,’ I say. ‘How’s Howard?’

‘Asleep. Poor old sod’s completely knackered. But it’s nothin’ a cup of tea, a good kip an’ a dose from the Fountain can’t fix. Not like this...’ He bites his lip, staring at the motionless stick-figure in the bed. ‘Anythin’ I can do to help?’

‘I'm sorry. I don't think there is.’ I shake my head, fighting back the tears there’ll be plenty of time for later. ‘I’ve done all I can, but I’m afraid Vince is... he's very weak, and the cancer... it’s in his bones.’

‘I’ll get the vial, then. Water of youth, that’s what he needs.’ Naboo takes a step towards the kitchen.

I put a hand on his arm, to stop him. ‘It’s too late for that. It won’t work.’

‘It always works,’ he says stubbornly.

‘Not for this. It can’t wind the clock back.’

‘But that’s exactly what it does do.’

I sigh. ‘Not exactly, no. The Water of Youth makes your body physically younger, but it can’t rewind your lifeline.’

‘You mean, it can’t undo all the stuff that’s happened to you,’ Naboo says slowly. The grief in his dark eyes breaks my heart.

‘No, it can’t.’ Perhaps if I go on telling him the truth, I’ll come to accept it myself. ‘It can’t make Vince not have had this disease. He’s very old, and very sick. He doesn't have much time left. All that’ll happen if he drinks the water – assuming he survives the shock – is that he’ll be younger, and still very sick. He still won’t have much time left.’

‘But I promised Howard –’

‘You shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep.’ My tone is sharper than I meant it to be; Naboo flinches.

I try to soften my voice; soften the blow. ‘Listen, I’ve texted Dennis, asked him to convene an emergency Board meeting and get back to me, just in case there’s a temporal work-round I’m not aware of...’

Naboo is staring down into the teacup.

‘You won’t find the answer there,’ I tell him.

‘P’raps I will.’ He tilts the cup towards me, to show me the wobbly tealeaf words.

_YOU KNOW WHAT MUST BE DONE._

‘An’ I’m prepared to let you do it.’

Cold horror grips my heart. ‘No. No, little one, you can’t ask me to do that to you, do you have any idea – the pain it causes –’

‘I don’t care.’

‘Well, I do.’

‘You did it before.’

Only the Head Shaman has the power to rip time from someone’s lifeline and add it to someone else’s: to wind the clock back. And yes, I have done it before, only the once. Once was enough. I took a day from Methuselah and gave it to Dennis when he had that terrible skiing accident. The one that would have left him a twisted, helpless cabbage...

I shudder. I don’t want to think about that.

Naboo’s eyes are boring into me. I tear my gaze away. ‘That was a single day. We’re talking twenty years at least, here. And I can’t do it.’

‘Won’t,’ he mutters.

‘Can’t, you plum. I swore I’d never hurt you again, remember?’

Vince lies unmoving and unknowing, pale and silent and old, as Naboo fights on. ‘This is different, it’s not breaking your promise, I want you to do it, I want to give him a chance, please...’ He’s crying in earnest now. ‘The tealeaves have never been wrong, and I can afford the odd twenty years.’

‘When it comes to the crunch, you can’t afford the odd twenty _minutes_. In your present state, it’d kill you. No way am I being responsible for that.’

‘We have to do it, he’s come all this way for us to help him...’

Naboo’s still fighting. But in his eyes I can see that he knows it’s hopeless.

‘Little one.’

He shakes his head; I can feel his pain even though I’ve withdrawn my mind from the link between us, shutting myself off from him as much as I can bear to.

‘Little one... There are some things you can’t fix, not even with magic. And this is one of them.’ I put a hand on Vince’s forehead, feeling the spark of life just barely there. ‘Let him go in peace,’ I whisper. ‘Don’t make him struggle any longer. At least he’s among friends.’

‘He doesn’t know it.’ Naboo sniffs, and wipes his nose on the sleeve of his robe. ‘He thinks he’s still lost in time and space...’

‘We can wake him,’ I say. ‘It’ll be the last time, but at least he’ll have a chance to say goodbye to you.’

‘An’ Howard. At least wait ’til Howard wakes up.’ Naboo chokes back a sob.

I nod. ‘Alright. We can wait a little while longer. And maybe the Board will...’

‘Fuck the Board.’ He turns savagely away from my outstretched hand; turns his back on the bed, as though he can’t bear to look any more. ‘I’m not holdin’ out any hope there. Just... _Fuck_.’

The empty teacup falls to the floor and shatters. Naboo stumbles out of the garden door, his shoulders shaking.

Oh, little one. I wish I could make this easier on him, but I can’t...

I put my hand back on Vince’s cold, bare forehead.

There’s not much time.

I know what must be done.


	4. cry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Howard wakes up. So does Vince.

_there are some things you can’t fix, not even with magic_

_you stand on the terrace at the foot of the garden, staring at the sea, tears pouring down your face, cold in the soft morning breeze_

_the weathered wood of the terrace railing is rough and solid under your hands_

_even as you lean on it for support, you hate it for being so strong, it’ll still be here long after –_

_you make yourself think it: after vince is gone, and howard has followed him_

_a universe without them is unthinkable_

_all these years, that little thread of hope has kept you going: the hope that you would see them again_

_keeping you from facing the reality of your loss_

_helping you learn to live without your familiar (and oh, how you long for his comforting, hairy warmth right now)_

_and now the hope has gone, leaving only guilt that in spite of everything saboo may not be enough_

_you can’t bear the thought of leaving him on his own_

_but how can you go on living here and watching him realise that he’s failed you?_

_all the light and colour is gone from the day_

_you aren’t sure how long you’ve been standing there when you feel howard awaken, and you know it’s time, you should be there with him_

_summoning all your remaining strength, you pull yourself upright and turn back towards the house_

_as you take your first step, a scream of agony rends the air_

_you gasp in horror, you must be too late, too late to say goodbye_

_oh, vince –_

_then a second scream, more terrible than the first, and you’re running_

_you fling yourself back into the bedroom and stop dead in shock_

_\- saboo, my heart..._

_he’s done it, after all_

_turned the clock back, given vince the time he needed_

_time ripped not from your life, but from saboo’s own_

_vince is sitting up in bed and feeling his restored thatch of grey hair with joyous amazement_

_\- hey naboo, check this out, i’ve got me hair back, genius!_

_howard is beside him on the bed, crying and laughing all at once_

_but saboo is on his knees on the floor, clutching at his chest, his breath coming short_

_his pain makes you dizzy_

_you kneel and gather him to you, but he shakes his head – time for that later, get the vial, teaspoon – teaspoon each, and hurry –_

_the vial with the water of life is in the fridge in the kitchen, you’re thankful saboo insists it is always topped up_

_\- hey – howard exclaims, as you bring it carefully back – that’s my old tartan thermos –_

_you smile, despite yourself: it was one more thing you couldn’t bear to throw away_

_\- and is that what i think it is? – vince’s smile is wide and bright_

_\- yup – you haven’t much energy for talking, and your hands shake as you pour the dose into the spoon – here you go –_

_\- thought we wasn’t supposed to drink it? remember when we turned into babies –_

_\- this is a special case, but don’t overdo it, i’m not changing your nappies this time – you watch him sip it cautiously, watch howard’s wide-eyed wonder as vince regresses through grizzled, plump middle-age to slim, black-haired youth, just as you remember him_

_\- but howard – he whispers – you’re all old, i made you all old lookin’ after me –_

_\- rubbish, we’re the same age, vince, everyone knows that –_

_you laugh – give it a minute, and you will be, here, get this down you_

_\- mmm, tasty – howard hands you back the spoon, and you watch vince’s face as he sees his howard return_

_\- naboo – a faint voice calls from down on the floor – little help here?_

_you kneel beside your love, bathe his face and hands with the water_

_he’s still breathless and weak_

_what can i do? – you whisper_

_\- forgive me – his eyes are dark with a pain you don’t understand_

_a wave of exhaustion sweeps over you, and suddenly you’re shaking, chilled to your very bones, the darkness creeping up on you and bringing the familiar fear_

_no, oh no, not now_

_\- help me –_

_you hear saboo sob – i can’t, little one, i can’t, not yet, you’ll have to give me an hour or two –_

_your heart sinks, you’re not sure you have an hour or two, the blackness is pressing at the backs of your eyes and you’re so afraid_

_\- i can’t – saboo sobs – i can’t –_

_you look down at the shards of the broken cup and the strewn tealeaves_

_you already know what they say:_

_CRUNCH TIME_


	5. Complicated

‘Trouble,’ Vince whispers to Howard, interrupting their kiss as the sound of weeping registers with Vince’s newly invigorated brain cell.

The big man nods. ‘Sounds like it. We’d better go and see what we can do.’

It’s not easy to let Howard go, after so long when Vince barely had the energy to hold hands with him, and Howard clearly feels the same way about letting Vince go, so they wriggle to the edge of the bed, still entwined.

‘I knew it,’ Howard mutters, staring at the two slumped shamen and the tealeaf message on the floor. ‘At least, I should have known it.’ He reaches towards his own wrist, as though to give himself a Chinese burn.

Vince grabs Howard’s hand, just in time. ‘That won’t help. But we know what will. Don’t we?’

‘Do we?’ Howard looks blank.

Vince rolls his eyes. ‘Yeah, we do. We know what’ll help Naboo, anyway...’

Without waiting for Howard to finish working it out, Vince slithers off the bed – surprised at how graceful and painless his movements now are – and kneels down, careful to avoid the bits of broken teacup.

‘What did you do?’ he asks Saboo. ‘It’s a freakin’ miracle. How did you fix me?’

Saboo just looks at him through tear-filled eyes, and can’t speak.

‘He gave you twenty years,’ Naboo lisps hoarsely. ‘I wasn’t strong enough, and he...’ He clutches desperately at Saboo’s hand.

‘Twenty years... Blimey.’ Vince shakes his head, to clear it. ‘You mean, off his own life?’

‘To rewind your timeline, to before you were ill.’ Naboo doubles up in a fit of weak coughing.

Saboo moans faintly. Vince leans over and puts a hand on his shoulder. To give Vince a new start, this man – this shaman – has risked his life, and Naboo’s as well, and Vince is determined not to let either of them down now it’s come to the crunch.

Not this time.

‘What can I do,’ Vince asks urgently, ‘how can I help?’

A tremor shakes Naboo’s skinny little body. ‘I need...’

‘Little one, I can’t,’ Saboo sobs. ‘I can’t...’

Vince feels his face crack into a wicked grin as Howard bends down, long and lean and magnificently bewhiskered, and scoops Naboo up into his arms. ‘I know you can’t,’ Vince whispers in Saboo’s ear. ‘But _we_ can.’

Howard lays Naboo gently down on the bed; lies down beside him.

‘Naboo’s gonna be OK,’ Vince says. ‘Believe me. He’s gonna be fine.’

‘I hope he can forgive me,’ Saboo whispers.

‘Forgive you for what?’

‘He would have died for you either way. All I’ve done is give him the easier death, the one he’s had to be prepared for all his life... Easier for him, perhaps. But not for me – not for me...’

Vince hugs him tight. ‘Shush, don’t be stupid, Naboo’s not gonna die... Howard’s gonna sort him out, aren’t you, Howard? Now you’re all young ‘n’everythin’ –’

‘It should be you in that bed with Howard, Vince,’ Saboo chokes.

‘It will be him,’ Howard says from on top of the bed. ‘What, did you think I had only one shot in my locker?’

‘He’s right,’ Vince says. ‘Y’know what they call him? The well-filled locker. Yes sir, chicka-chicka, comin’ at you in a hail of Northern Bullets... an’ I’m his next target. Sooner than you think, he’s quick on the draw for a man his age.’

‘Vince,’ Naboo says faintly.

‘Yeah?’

‘Shut up,’ Naboo and Howard say in unison.

Vince does, and there’s silence in the room, save for a few rustlings and murmurings from on top of the bed. Vince strokes slow circles across Saboo’s back, aware of the currents of life-energy flowing between the shaman and himself; perhaps Vince has gained an extra shaman-sense, because somehow he can feel Saboo’s uneasiness at each new sound, an uneasiness mingled with curiosity.

Naboo makes a small, needy whimper, and Saboo catches his breath.

‘Sorry,’ Vince says quietly, ‘is this weird? Would you rather go somewhere else while they’re gettin’ it on?’

Saboo shakes his head. ‘I’d rather...’

‘Be up there with them? Can do.’ Vince helps him to his feet, carefully, because he’s all wobbly; helps him take the few steps over to the edge of the bed.

‘There you go, now we’re all where the action is, it’ll be fine. Awww, no, don’t cry. Please don’t cry. Howard, have you got a hankie?’


	6. crunch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When it comes to the crunch, Howard comes to the rescue.

_the sound of saboo weeping makes you ache for him, he never cries_

_well, hardly ever_

_\- it’s OK, you idiot, I haven’t gone yet – such an effort to speak_

_\- sssh - howard whispers - save your strength -_

_he strokes you under your hair, behind your ear, soothing you_

_he’s strong and solid and gentle and oh, how you have longed for this_

_saboo stretches out by your side, still sniffling a bit_

_\- sorry, i know this is a bit weird – you grope for his hand_

_he laughs through the tears – little one, since when has that ever bothered you? – and you feel some of the black fear slip away, it’s going to be all right now_

_vince leans across saboo, all sleek black hair and smooth skin, his blue eyes wiser than you’ve ever seen them_

_\- don’t worry about him, or me - he grins – you just lie back an’ let howard do what howard does best_

_howard pulls you close_

_\- i’ve missed you – you whisper_

_\- i know - he helps you out of your bathrobe, wriggles out of saboo’s, which you’d wrapped him in as he sat shivering by the hearth_

_\- that’s a sight for sore eyes - vince laughs_

_howard looks down at himself – will you look at that, it hasn’t done that in years, take a bit of getting used to, that will –_

_\- i can get used to it - vince says - no problem_

_guilt twists at your insides - vince, it should be you doin’ this with howard, not me –_

_but vince shushes you with a kiss - we’ve been there already, it can be both of us, and saboo as well –_

_here’s hoping he’s right_

_it certainly feels right, you’re surrounded by warm bodies and soft touches and love_

_this time the crunch will come and go and you’ll be safe in howard’s big hands_

_vince is talking softly to saboo, saboo’s hand is on you too, howard’s fingers are inside you and already you’re opening to him_

_\- it remembers - he murmurs, stroking you – after all this time_

_you can feel the skin flushing at his touch, the heat building between your thighs_

_saboo is close beside you, vince still reassuring him – there you go, help him along, you need to be a part of it too this time –_

_you make the effort, turn your head and look into your true love’s eyes_

_\- hi -_

_\- hi yourself - the corner of his mouth twitches upwards, he’s still in pain but you can both bear it now_

_he leans in and kisses you, and howard does too, then on impulse he reaches over you to kiss saboo as well_

_\- thank you, saboo whispers – i’m glad you’re back_

_\- in the nick of time – vince strokes howard’s back – maybe this was meant to happen all along_

_howard’s fingers flutter at your sweet spot, and you gasp – think i’m ready_

_\- are you sure? – howard asks, and you and saboo say **yes** at the same moment_

_vince giggles and says something about a double act_

_howard braces himself above you and eases his way in, gentle and confident - is that ok for you?_

_all you can do is nod, it’s more than ok, it’s... tight and hot and so good, you’d forgotten this completely but now you find you hadn’t forgotten any of it at all_

_\- don’t hold back – he strokes behind your ear again, and you moan in utter bliss – take what you need, whatever you – naboolio, we’ve come so far to find you, don’t leave us now, we’ve got so much to tell you –_

_you arch your back, tighten around him_

_he bites his lip_

_\- talking too much - he mutters – sorry -_

_\- don’t be – you can’t say any more, too breathless_

_saboo is holding your hand; on your other side, vince is murmuring sweet nothings into your ear_

_how did he get there? never mind, it was what you needed him to do_

_like last time_

_you shut your eyes and fight back the darkness, clinging to light and life and howard with all the strength left to you, not much but it’ll have to do_

_failure is not an option_

_howard pushes deeper, you feel it –_

_no, you **see** it, a fiery light behind your eyes, it’s out of your control now _

_a small high sound escapes you, and howard stills his movements – you ok?_

_you can’t answer, but from one side vince says – don’t stop, howard – and on your other side saboo whispers – he’s not in pain –_

_howard kisses you gently on the mouth – had me worried there for a moment –_

_you move your hips, asking him to carry on, the darkness is just behind the light, but you have to trust the bond between you, that tenuous contact with an alien mind, trust that howard feels it too and knows, knows what to do -_

_saboo’s hand in yours is a reminder of that other, deeper bond, a constant reassurance, this is what you have to live for, what makes it worth while when it comes to the crunch_

_\- little one – he whispers, so quiet you can hardly hear it, or maybe it’s inside your head – little one, let it go_

_you can’t resist, you’re swept away_

_\- oh, oh, oh –_

_vince’s hand is on you too and howard’s body is filling yours, there are tears on your cheek but you’ve no idea whose_

_howard is crying out too now_

_the universe shatters into sparkling peacock-blue fragments, and is remade_


	7. Calm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> cleanup time; shower time; bathtime; thinking time; snuggle time; teatime. More or less in that order.

When I come to myself again, I’m sobbing in Howard’s arms, which feels a bit weird, but what’s even weirder is that I don’t find it even slightly embarrassing.

I must be losing my grip.

Howard doesn’t say anything, just hangs on to me and pats me on the back every now and then until the worst is over.

I can’t tell him how grateful I am, for any of it. But then I don’t suppose I really need to.

Beside us, Vince is wiping Naboo down, making him comfortable, fussing with pillows and towels, talking quietly to him all the while.

‘Just roll over for me, yeah? You’re a bit sticky there too, an’ I can’t reach. I think that was my fault, actually. Sorry about that, but seein’ Howard in action again after all this time... an’ you... Would’ve tipped anybody over the edge... Alright, there you go. You’re gonna be fine now. I knew Howard could do it. An’ it was beautiful.’

He does the same for me, giggling as he un-sticks me from Howard. ‘For someone who was too knackered to come, you seem to’ve got pretty well covered.’

‘Yes, well, it stopped me from feeling left out, didn’t it.’

‘Awww.’ Vince leans over and kisses me warmly on the mouth. ‘Don’t be an idiot. You weren’t left out. You were a vital part of the whole operation. Tell him, Naboolio.’

Naboo’s hand grips mine. ‘He’s right,’ he whispers.

‘Course I’m right.’ Vince ruffles my hair in a familiar way that would make me punch anybody else on the nose, grins cheekily at me, and turns his attention to Howard. ‘Your turn, big man.’

‘Are you sure – ’

‘– I’m alright doin’ this?’ Vince’s blue eyes are filled with sympathy as he looks down at Howard’s worried frown. ‘Yeah, I’m alright, Howard. I know it’s hard to believe. You’ve had to take care of me for so long. ’S’nice to be able to return the favour. But eurgh, this is well more sticky than will fit on one towel... Naboo, can we use your bathroom?’

‘Course.’

‘C’m’on Howard, let’s go an’ get properly clean, eh?’

‘And maybe a bit dirty while we’re at it?’ Howard swings his long legs off the bed and takes Vince’s outstretched hand. ‘Did you see what I did there? Chicka-chick-aaah! Ow! Howard Moon’s got his magic back.’

‘Ya never lost it, Howard,’ Vince says quietly. He slides his arm around Howard’s waist and the two of them stride out of the bedroom, perfectly in step.

‘Thank you.’ Naboo squeezes my hand as he watches them go. ‘Thought Vince was a goner, but you saved him after all... Why did you change your mind?’

I shake my aching head, trying to get my thoughts into some sort of order. ‘I don’t know. The sensible thing would have been to let him go peacefully, but when it came to the crunch I just... couldn’t. They’d come all this way to find you, and they had such faith that you could fix everything.’

Naboo snorts. ‘They always did. Idiots.’

‘Not such idiots. If you think about it, you usually managed to save their worthless arses somehow. Only this time...’ I swallow hard against the lump in my throat. ‘This time, Howard kept on saying it was going to be alright, but when he caught my eye I could see that he knew it wasn’t, but he was doing that infuriating Earth-British thing of being too polite to plead with me, he just kept trying to reassure Vince, and I knew he’d forgive me for Vince dying and then just quietly slip away himself. And then you’d very likely do the same too, and I’d have let all three of you down...’

‘But you didn’t.’ Naboo cradles my head on his shoulder, and strokes my hair. ‘Does it still hurt real bad?’

‘Not as badly as it did. But fuck me, I’m tired.’ I heave a huge sigh. ‘I don’t think I’ll be doing that again in a hurry. In fact I don’t think I’ll be doing anything in a hurry for some considerable time.’

‘You won’t need to.’ He wriggles close to me, pressing against my side.

His breathing is firm and steady; I can feel the energy flowing from him to me, renewing us both, the connection between us deeper and calmer than it’s ever been before.

There is a sudden burst of giggling and splashing from the bathroom.

‘They might have bothered to shut the door properly,’ I mutter, and I’m about to get off the bed and go and close it when I see that Naboo’s listening intently, a half-smile tugging at the corners of his mouth but tears leaking slowly from his closed eyelids.

This isn’t going to be easy for him. Five hundred years of grief won’t just vanish in an instant. There was so little I could do, in those early days, except hold his hand and listen.

White-faced and frantic, he searched obsessively for any trace of Vince and Howard, and even tried dangerous and forbidden spells to conjure them back from their wedding photos. When that proved impossible (and after I’d rebuilt the living-room wall of the flat three times) he wept and raged and blamed himself, and Kirk, and me, and then went to bed for a week and didn’t speak to anybody, not even poor patient Bollo, who did his best with tea and toast and silent sympathy.

The Naboo who emerged from his retreat and shyly took my hand again was changed, changed in a way I couldn’t undo. He was touchingly determined to stay with me, and I loved him no less – more, if anything – but ye gods, sometimes we had to work at it. For years, the slightest reminder of his lost friends would send him into emotional meltdown, and eventually of course the Reaper came for Bollo (although the taxi was booked to take him to the newly renamed Primate Heaven this time and I hope he’s very happy up there; he deserves to be).

And then all Naboo had left was me. And that was hard work for both of us.

He accepted that Bollo was gone forever, but he never entirely stopped hoping that Vince and Howard were out there somewhere, and wishing they would come back.

_Be careful what you wish for._ This prime principle is dinned into every Shaman Academy student, but still we sometimes have to learn the hard way that wishing and having are two different things.

Nothing I can do or say will make this any easier for him.

I hold his hand, and listen.

‘Hey Howard, this is genius, look, it’s a magic mirror that shows you the back of your hair, how cool is that? And not a single bit of grey anywhere!’

‘Anywhere? You want me to check?’

‘Course I do.’ More splashing. ‘Oh. Oh, Howard... Hey, we found Naboo, that is so cool as well, an’ look at you, all young an’ fit an’ everythin’...’

‘Little man, come on, get in the shower.’ 

‘Hey Howard, we really are the same age now, what if we stay this age for ever, how amazin’ will that be?’

‘Come here, let me shut the door... Vince, stop wriggling, you’ll fall over. You need to calm down now.’

‘That’s what you said to that llama when it went mental, back at the zoo.’

Howard is laughing so hard he can barely get the words out. ‘Do you – do you think I can calm you down the same way I did him?’

‘What, by gettin’ off with me? Worth a try. Move over, then.’

‘Woah, steady there, calm down.’

In perfect unison, they strike up one of those stupid, irritating songs of theirs. I’ve never understood why two grown men would –

‘Deep down in the ocean, blue like a barnacle...’ Naboo is whispering along with them, and now he’s crying in earnest.

‘What’s wrong?’

‘I miss – I miss Bollo...’

I hold him close. ‘I know, little one, I know.’ I sound feeble to my own ears, my voice still wavering and weak.

After a while he dries his eyes and tries to smile. I stroke his tangled hair; push it off his face. My hand lingers a moment near his ear before I reconsider and stroke his cheek instead.

I feel his pang of guilt through the bond, he kept something from me, never told me –

‘It’s all right. I don’t begrudge Howard his own little bit of you.’ And I don’t, I really don’t. ‘After all, if it wasn’t for him, you wouldn’t be here, twice over.’

‘I don’t deserve you.’ He clings to me as though he can’t get close enough, his body moulding itself to mine as we comfort each other.

‘Glad to see you’re feelin’ better.’ Vince is standing by the bed, cheerfully nude and tousle-haired. ‘Your turn now, go an’ get clean an’ we’ll sort the bed out.’

Naboo has to help me up; I’m still unsteady on my feet and he’s not exactly confident either, so we lean on each other as we head for the door.

Howard chuckles. ‘Look at you two. Who are the wobbly oldies now?’

‘Shut up, Howard.’ Vince bungs a pillow at him, and turns to us, grinning. ‘Sorry about that, he should be more respectful of the elderly... Watch out for the floor, ’fraid it got a bit wet.’

He’s not wrong. But today, I can forgive them anything.

I’m careful to shut the bathroom door, but even so, I can hear the two humans laughing and thudding around in the bedroom.

‘Bath or shower?’ I ask, as I always do. There’s a long pause, as there often is, and I’m already reaching for the shower door when Naboo brings his mind back from wherever it’s been, and says, ‘Bath.’

‘You sure?’

He nods. He’s being kind to me: he must sense that every muscle in my body is aching with fatigue.

I run a deep hot bath with plenty of bubbles. I’m looking forward to this...

Naboo puts a hand on my arm as I’m about to step into the water. ‘Wait a sec.’

‘What’s wrong?’

‘Somefink I need to do,’ he murmurs; takes a deep breath, and then does something that astonishes me.

He gets into the bathtub first.

Five hundred years since the tank, and he’s never been able to –

‘Until now,’ he whispers, looking very small and vulnerable in there on his own.

I scramble in behind him. ‘You all right?’

‘Fink so.’ He wriggles in between my knees and leans back, skin on skin.

I fold my arms round him, holding him safe against my chest. ‘Are you sure?’

He gives a shaky half-laugh. ‘Well, no, actually, but better’n’ I was when I got up this morning, so I guess that’s a result.’

‘I’ll settle for that.’ I kiss him gently; run my hands over his beloved body. So familiar, and yet always new.

He sighs, and settles his head on my shoulder.

The warmth and the quiet seep into my bones; I could fall asleep like this. I stroke Naboo’s hair. ‘What a day,’ I murmur.

Naboo nuzzles into my neck. ‘Yeah, I know, an’ it’s not even teatime yet.’

All at once I realise that I am ferociously hungry, and Naboo’s stomach gives a sudden rumble. ‘We got any cake?’ he asks plaintively.

‘If you haven’t already eaten it all.’ I laugh, and reach for the soap. ‘Let’s get clean, and go and see.’

We wash each other with the ease of long habit, pull on bathrobes and go back into the bedroom.

It’s quiet in there: Vince and Howard are entwined, oblivious, on top of the neatly remade bed.

‘Looks like we can throw out those owl beaks,’ Naboo whispers, his eyes gleaming with amusement.

I cough meaningfully and the lovers roll apart, grinning and unrepentant.

‘We didn’t need to see that.’ I throw them the spare bathrobes from the back of the door.

‘Well, ya shouldn’t’ve been looking.’ Vince swathes himself in blue towelling and strikes a pose; looks in the mirror and shakes his head. ‘You got any clothes shops round ’ere? I’m gonna need a new wardrobe.’

‘Vince,’ Howard hisses, going red, ‘we don’t have any money. We don’t have any anything...’ He turns to Naboo. ‘I – I don’t suppose we could have our old jobs back? We don’t want to impose...’

‘Don’t be an idiot,’ I say, ‘after what you just did for Naboo – for us –’

Vince shakes his head again. ‘An’ what about what you did for me? We’re all square there. But Howard’s right, we got nuffink left...’

I put my hand on his shoulder. ‘Listen, we don’t need to start worrying about the future yet. It’s just good that we all have one to worry about. So let’s all take a deep breath and stay in the present for now.’

Vince obediently takes a deep breath. ‘OK, deal, we’ll worry about tomorrow tomorrow. Meanwhile I’m starvin’... did I hear someone mention cake?’

And I could swear I’d shut the door.

‘That would be me.’ Naboo’s smile lights up the room. ‘I’ll go and put the kettle on again.’


	8. Cake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is cake. And more cake.

‘More cake?’ Naboo pushes the loaded serving plate across the coffee table.

Howard shakes his head. ‘No, thanks, I couldn’t eat another thing.’

‘ _I_ could,’ Vince says hopefully.

Saboo frowns. ‘You’ve already had three slices.’

‘So what.’ Vince is unrepentant. ‘It’s fantastic cake.’ He can’t actually think of the right word to describe it: it’s sweet and spicy and slightly tangy, with a thick layer of dark chocolate icing.

So good to experience real pure flavours again, after years of nausea and metallic-tasting medication; to be really truly hungry and not just achingly empty. ‘Fantastic,’ he repeats.

‘Thanks.’ Naboo smiles. ‘It’s an old Earth recipe I found on the Xoobernet. Magic tomato soup cake.’

Howard looks slightly worried. ‘Did you just say _soup cake_?’

‘Yeah. So?’

‘Were you high when you made it?’

‘Yeah.’ Naboo wrinkles his nose defiantly, and Howard looks at him with pure affection. Vince’s tummy does a jimmy-flip that has nothing to do with the amount of cake he’s just eaten. A bit of Howard that’s been broken for a very long time has just fallen back into place.

‘It’s definitely magic,’ Vince says. ‘An’ there’s nothing wrong with putting soup in a cake.’ He catches Howard’s eye. ‘Hey Howard, remember the time we had that soup?’

Howard’s grin lights up the room as the double-act swings seamlessly into action. ‘ _Soup, soup, a tasty soup_...’

‘OK, you win.’ Saboo wields the cake-knife as though it were a sword, cutting off another slab. ‘ _Have_ a fourth slice. As long as we don’t have to suffer another crimp.’

‘Crimps are good,’ Vince protests. ‘And anyway, who’s counting?’

‘I am. It’s my cake.’

‘ _Our_ cake.’ Naboo drains the last of his after-dinner tea, and leans back in his armchair. ‘I made it. Don’t worry if Vince pigs the lot, I’ll make you another one tomorrow.’

Saboo mutters something about it being a matter of _when_ rather than _if_ , but passes Vince the plate all the same.

‘He needs the calories,’ Naboo says.

‘Mmmmffff,’ Vince agrees, through a mouthful of chocolate and crumbs.

How fantastic is this, to be full of good food and sprawled on a squashy sofa in a room full of friends, with no need to worry about tomorrow.

Only one thing could make this any more perfect than it is, and that would be if they could get Bollo back from Ape Heaven. That was a nasty moment, when Vince asked ‘Where’s Bollo?’ just as they were all sitting down to dinner, and Naboo dissolved in tears and also had to be comforted...

Naboo is staring thoughtfully into his cup.

‘What is it?’ Vince asks, to stop himself thinking any more about Bollo. ‘The tealeaves think I’m gonna get fat on all that cake?’

‘Not exactly. It is about you, though, look.’

Vince peers into the cup that Naboo is holding out to him. The wonky tealeaf letters read _HOW THE F*** DID THEY GET HERE_?

Naboo grins at him. ‘Well?’

‘Long story.’ Vince fiddles with his hair. He doesn’t want to be the one who has to tell it.

Howard nods, and looks suddenly old and tired again. ‘Very long story.’

‘We’ve got plenty of time.’ Saboo reaches for the flask of xooberberry liqueur and refills their glasses.

‘It was our last chance,’ Vince says, as Howard struggles for words. ‘We were on some planet or other an’ I was in this clinic, but it wasn’t working. Howard was brilliant...’

‘Not really,’ Howard mumbles, and blushes in a way that does something funny to Vince’s insides.

‘No, you were, you did all that time travel research an’ put all those ads in the papers.’

As well as visiting every day with little cakes and funny stories and trying to keep Vince’s spirits up, even though Vince didn’t have much left to keep up by then.

Vince would have been stuffed, without Howard. Vince gives him a look that he hopes will convey how grateful he is, and makes a mental note to tell Howard in so many words, later, in the night times when they’re alone.

Maybe he can find a few ways to show him, as well.

Vince gradually realises that the room is silent and the others are all staring at him. He takes a deep breath. ‘Where was I?’

‘Ads in the papers,’ Naboo murmurs.

‘Oh yeah. Well, eventually Howard was contacted by a bloke who said he knew how to recalibrate the machine to do space instead of time an’ get us to wherever we wanted to go. Which was here.’

‘You could’ve taken a regular flight,’ Saboo says. ‘Or a carpet.’

Howard drains his glass, and shakes his head. ‘We’d nothing left. We’d spent it all on – treatments...’

Vince puts a hand on Howard’s. ‘This bloke Howard found,’ he says, ‘get this. It’s an amazin’ story. An’ watch the animations, they’re brilliant.’ He takes a deep breath and puts on his special storytelling voice. ‘ _Once upon a time_...’

Howard smiles happily. It’s been a while since Vince had the energy to tell him a proper story.

‘... _on some planet or other there lived a mechanical genius. His name was Peter an’ his ancestors had come from earth a very long time ago. They had a story in his family about his greatgreatgreatgreatgrandfather or whatever he was, that he’d had a magical friend who wore a blue turban an’ that he’d worked in a place called Dixons, he was where they got their engineerin’ skills from_.’

Naboo looks gobsmacked. ‘You’re joking.’ The cartoons and music stop abruptly. ‘You went all the way across time and space an’ wound up with descendants of _Pete_ ’s?’

‘That was when we knew it’d work,’ Vince says, ‘it was so unlikely it had to be right.’ He clears his throat, and goes back to his proper storytelling voice.

‘ _One day Peter was reading his morning paper and saw an advert from two alien time travellers who were stranded on his planet. They needed someone to fix their broken time machine. Peter was intrigued when he saw that the aliens were from earth. He applied for the job and got it straight away, because nobody else on the planet could be arsed to apply, and the time travellers gave him everything they had left._..’

‘Which wasn’t much,’ Howard adds.

‘ _Which wasn’t much, but Peter was a kindly man_.’

‘Not so much a man, more of a purple blob with eleven arms.’

‘You don’t need to tell them that, Howard, it’s in the pictures... _Peter was a kindly purple blob with eleven arms and he felt sorry for the aliens because they were so old and ill, so he worked on the machine for fun anyway until it was as fixed as he could make it._

_‘Then he programmed it with the coordinates of the planet Xooberon, loaded the time travellers inside, screwed the brass doorknob back into place, wished them good luck and closed the door._

_‘The time travellers knew they didn’t have much time left. They hung on tight to each other as the machine rattled through space, and_...’

The drawings fade to black and the music stops.

‘And you know the rest,’ Howard says hurriedly, pulling Vince close.

Vince puts an arm round Howard and hangs on tight, recalling the utter terror, the blackness of the freezing void held away by a few bits of wood and Peter’s alien expertise.

He’d always hated space travel; it always brought back unwelcome memories of his reluctant rescue mission.

He doesn’t want to think about that now.

‘It was my worst nightmare,’ he says, trying to crack a smile and not entirely succeeding. ‘Goin’ through time an’ space with only one outfit... An’ when we crashed, I thought, that’s it, curtains for Vince Noir, an’ all that flashed through my mind was, but I haven’t even got my hair...’

Howard pats him on the back; Saboo passes him a box of tissues.

Vince blows his nose. ‘Sorry.’ He grabs Saboo’s wrist, suddenly scared. ‘This isn’t the afterlife, is it? I didn’t actually get fried, I’m not lyin’ out on the sand all crisped and shrivelled an’ _bald_ , am I?’

‘Look at me.’ Saboo’s voice is firm and clear. ‘Get a grip. This is real. You have gone into the future, so I suppose you could say it’s a sort of afterlife, but you’re whole, you’re here, you’ve got at least twenty years –’

‘Have I?’ Vince sniffs. ‘Have I really?’

‘I should know, you prize plum duff, I gave them to you.’ Saboo takes Vince’s hand in both of his own. ‘This is your future. It’s up to you what you make of it.’

That’s still scary. So many questions, so many possibilities. But maybe if Howard’s there too...

Vince yawns, suddenly exhausted.

‘Let’s sleep on it.’ There’s a wicked twinkle in Howard’s eye. ‘Come on, little man. It’ll all look better in the morning.’

‘And yes,’ Saboo says, grinning, ‘you can have cake for breakfast if you want.’

Cake for breakfast? Now that’s the sort of afterlife Vince can handle.


	9. curtains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few things need to be sorted out.

_vince has dark shadows under his eyes this morning_

_– bad night? you pass the teapot across the kitchen table_

_howard yawns hugely as he fills two mugs and adds four sugars to vince’s – here you go, little man, something to wash that cake down – he turns to you and rubs his eyes – no, not really, but..._

_he’s blushing; you grin_

_– we didn’t sleep too well – vince says, winking at howard – we had a lot to, erm, talk about_

_– and we woke early – howard smothers another yawn, and sips his tea – two suns through the window, very nice and all that, but a bit bright_

_– you’ll get used to it – saboo puts the last slice of cake on vince’s plate_

_– i’m sure we will, an’ it’s nice to be warm, although – vince looks down at the floral beach shorts you’ve lent him – we’re gonna have to go clothes shopping, these are a bit of a neat fit an’ whatever’s fashionable here in the future, no offence naboo, but i’m sure these aren’t it_

_– **vince** – howard hisses, blushing even pinker – beggars can’t be choosers, we’ve no money... _

_he’s reaching for his wrist, about to give himself a chinese burn from sheer anxiety; you put a hand on his, just in time to stop him_

_– it’s okay howard, never actually sacked ya, did i? an’ i reckon five centuries of backdated pay’ll keep even vince in clothes for a while an’, erm, s’pose I owe ya for the other things too –_

_– what other things? – vince’s blue eyes are suddenly sharp – you mean, like my clothes?_

_– and my jazz collection? – howard’s moustache bristles with indignation_

_– **what did you do with our stuff**? – he and vince ask, in perfect unison_

_– you’re sitting in it – saboo says, deadpan_

_both humans are glaring at you now_

_you start to explain that they’re officially dead and you inherited their things and didn’t want to just throw them away..._

_they are still glaring at you_

_saboo comes to your rescue – listen, you prize tits, he thought he was never going to see you again, he was devastated, he hung on to your rubbish for years just in case, but when we decided to move back here we couldn’t keep it all, the removal charges would have been horrendous_

_– it, it went to good homes – you stutter – i t-tried to find people who’d appreciate it and look after it –_

_\- so you mean if we went back to earth we might be able to trace some of it, get it back? – vince brightens – bet there are still people wearing my outfits, maybe your records are in some borin’ jazz museum, Howard, we could get another job and save up –_

_– you couldn’t – saboo says curtly – that’s not how it’s going to work, as far as earth is concerned you’re dead and gone, you don’t officially exist_

_vince looks devastated; you try to soften the blow a bit – you wouldn’t like it much now, loads of it’s flooded and it’s very overcrowded, most of the shamen have moved back here, most of them with any sense anyway, the harrisons are still in new london and dennis retired to switzerland but that’s about it –_

_– so dennis has taken up skiing, has he? – howard shakes his head – can’t imagine that –_

_– not exactly, he... had a bad accident several years ago, had to give it up... and now there isn’t any snow any more ’cause of global warming, he does occasional nostalgia tours where he produces snow by magic, charges a fortune too –_

_– so what you’re sayin’ is, we have to stay on xooberon? – vince cuts in, frowning_

_– not necessarily – saboo shrugs – there are plenty of planets that welcome new settlers, no questions asked, we can pick up some brochures in town if you like_

_vince says – okay – and sips his tea_

_your heart goes cold, you hadn’t thought they might not after all want to stay here_

_– it’s all right – howard puts a hand on your shoulder – we’re not really mad at you, are we, vince?_

_– s’pose not – but vince is still frowning_

_– hang on – a thought strikes you, you get up and head for the boxroom and come back with the battered cardboard box that has travelled back to earth with you every year for centuries, just in case..._

_– didn’t get rid of quite everything, always hoped that maybe one day this would happen – you hand the box to vince with a slight sense of unreality, you dreamed of this so many times_

_– my mirrorball suit! – vince shrieks – genius, an’ you kept the silver boots as well... what’s in this jiffy bag?_

_– careful with that, that’s howard’s – you take the padded envelope out of vince’s wildly waving hand and pass it across the table_

_– blue train, howard breathes reverently – of all the albums you could have kept, that is the one... thank you, naboo_

_then both of them are hugging you and the ice around your heart melts a little bit_

_vince races off to the guestroom to change, and howard slumps in an armchair to gaze reverently at the record sleeve_

_you pick up the little cube that’s lying unnoticed in the bottom of the box, the recording of that other crunch night from so long ago, and slip it in your pocket, you can give it to them later when they’ve calmed down_

_maybe you can all watch it together tonight_

_maybe you’ll give it to them to take with them wherever they decide to go..._

_saboo and howard rig up something clever with the stereo and the house fills with coltrane’s mellow jazz sounds_

_vince emerges resplendent in sparkling silver, grinning like an idiot as he primps his hair in front of the big mirror in the hall_

_howard goes to help him and soon they’re laughing and joking_

_– it’s a bit like old times – saboo murmurs in your ear_

_– a lot like old times – your voice shakes, you can’t bear the thought that they might leave again_

_saboo looks at you with gentle sympathy – it has to be up to them, we gave them a new life, we have no right to tell them what to do with it_

_– yeah, but why’d you have to tell them they could get brochures on other planets and stuff?_

_– they’d have found out themselves sooner or later, it’s better they explore the options now... little one, don’t look at me like that, you know I’m right, this wouldn’t be any easier in six months’ time, or a year –_

_the music squawks and dies abruptly; saboo presses a kiss to your temple and goes to see what the trouble is_

_you slip away through the garden door and sit on the verandah, turning the little cube with the crunch night recording over and over in your hands_

_the worn wood of the railings looks exactly the same as it did yesterday, but you’re not the same, things will never be the same again_

_the music starts up again, and snatches of conversation drift through the open windows_

_– saboo, does xooberon city have any record shops?_

_– never mind mouldy old record shops, howard, what’s vital is, does it have clothes shops? we need beach gear and serious suncream an’..._

_you move further away from the house_

_if they’re going to discuss planetary translocation, you don’t want to hear it_

_not yet_

_not ever_

_saboo’s hand on your shoulder makes you jump_

_– you were miles away there – he hands you a robe, he’s wearing a shirt and carrying a rolled-up carpet, which he unfurls with a flourish and lays out on the decking – dry your eyes and get dressed, little one, it’s time to go shopping, those two have got to be decently clothed while they’re here_

_– even if that’s not for very long – but you don’t say it out loud as you pull the robe over your head_

_– oh, and another thing: the suns get very low in the winter – he’s grinning cheerfully and all you can do is gape stupidly, you have no idea what he’s talking about_

_vince appears behind him, still mirrorball-clad and grinning even more cheerfully – an’ we neither of us really do early mornin’s, so..._

_– so – howard comes to your side, puts an arm around you – unless you were planning on four-in-a-bed every night..._

_...we’re going to need new curtains for the guestroom – saboo says – those white cheesecloth ones just don’t do the business..._

_... an’ they’re well unfashionable too – vince adds – i was thinking –_

_– we were thinking – howard pulls you close – that is, if it’s ok if we stay here?_

_you wipe your eyes on the sleeve of your robe – course it is_

_– told you – vince says – told you you were worryin’ about nothin’, howard –_

_– looks as though i wasn’t the only one, either – howard strokes you behind your ear – anyway, we were thinking crushed velvet –_

_– it’ll come out of your backdated wages – your voice is wavery but you’re smiling too now – what colour?_

_but you know the answer, even before four voices say in perfect unison:_

_– **peacock blue**  
_


End file.
